Perfect Blue
by Tristripe
Summary: KilGon& more: Four years after Hunter Exam. In life one must travel over many bumpy roads, sometimes these bumps come from the outside, other times they were always there. The trick is not to break anything on the way.
1. Prologue

**Title: Perfect Blue**

**Author: Tristripe (Tri)**

**Pairing: Killua/Gon**

**Rating: M…just to be safe.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the character, if you try to sue me I will never write again.**

**Fic Warning: Violence, gore, sex, nonconsensual sexual situations, Hisoka…**

**Chapter Warning: K+ for sexual situations? Sadistic behavior O.o**

**A/N: I dunno…I wanted to write a multi-part fic for this pairing. Even though Kurapica is my favorite Hunter X Hunter character, the pairing of Killua and Gon is just too juicy not to take advantage of. They just…flow…so well together. The two of them are Just. Too. Cute!**

**Now this is a couple of years in the future, the boys being nice healthy teenagers. So this is not shota.**

**Special thanks to Msmanga who told me to stop whining and just write.**

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**_PERFECT BLUE  
_****_Prologue_**

Before, there was nothing.

All he knew was loneliness, years of boredom for a lifestyle he did not care for nor wanted. He possessed great potential and skill, he was told numerous times, the perfect specimen for the chosen Zaoldyeck heir. A genius, one might surmise, which explained how he could excel in something that he found no interest in. There wasn't even a goal that he wanted to reach; he just could. It was easy. Boring. Redundant. Absolutely desolate. So like a game that had been won too many times to count, he wanted to stop, try something new. Something exciting and different.

It was not that he even cared for anyone else, nor did it matter whether or not his life was put in jeopardy. He had been taught that life had no value. As long as there was life, there was death. No grand purpose, no fateful design, no meaning to existence.

There was nothing, just emptiness that had no end.

So utterly dull.

These very same traits were what made him, Killua Zaoldyeck, the perfect assassin. It was because death bored him, he felt neither hatred nor exhilaration during the act of murder. It did not matter whether the kill was clean or absolutely gory. However, he had been taught by the best of the best, so when he stuck it was clean and thorough, leaving the victim irreversibly dead with a perplexed look in their unseeing eyes. The victims never see it coming, never know what hit them, or even if they were hit. There was just death, and bottomless eyes silently watching as they fell. The perfect weapon, the perfect puppet.

Such an apt pupil.

But that was the before, when there was nothing.

Before Gon, who now was everything.

"You're obsessed, you know."

Killua started, blinking at the computer monitor screen he had been staring blindly at. The bedroom lights were all off, and glancing at the digital clock sitting atop the small wooden cupboard he winced at the discovery that it was after three in the morning. The light blue glow from the computer spread across the dark room, lazily illuminating the figure on the bed who was propped up on one elbow and giving him an exhausted glare. Turning back to the monitor, he groaned at the little animated hero that had been slain

Biting his lip, he guided the small cursor to the Restart button. If he tried again he would beat his previous record score.

"Killua…"

His finger froze in mid-click on the mouse. Slowly he looking over his shoulder, noticing that now the person on the bed was sitting up straight, brows knotted in an annoyed frown, dark hair that reflected the blue from the computer stuck out at odd ends. Killua beamed nervously, "Just one more try, Gon. I'm close to a new record! I promise I'll come back once I get there!"

The young man on the bed snorted, "Liar. We have to be up in a couple of hours, and you haven't left that game since we got back last night! You're obsessed!"

"But I'm almost there!" he whined childishly, and was not prepared when his pillow came smashing right into his face, knocking him off his seat, and nearly upturning the table, computer and all. Sneezing away a stray feather that had escaped from the pillow, he found Gon grinning down at him.

A declaration of war, one that Killua was going to answer head on.

He charged from the floor, leaping onto the bed and driving Gon down by the shoulders, coming to hover over his slighter friend. He squeezed dominantly onto those firm tanned shoulders and leered, quite happy that he had gotten the upper hand so early on in their battle. However, after a few seconds of silence, Killua realized that there was no fight, and that his slighter friend was still grinning at him. He had expected a mighty struggle, one that involved at least one bloody nose and swarms of feathers that had burst from the pillows that would have used as weapons and shields and ammunition against each other. He had not even received a pointy elbow in his midsection!

"What? Giving up?" he asked, not allowing his surprise bring his guard down, instead putting more pressure down on the other. Though superior in strength, Killua knew never to underestimate his friend, who was by no means lacking in tricks to put himself at an advantage. Even when Gon was twelve, with no training in speak of, he had shown an innate talent in fighting skills, whether it was in physical strength or in his strategy in battle. After all, the other always seemed to end up facing a much superior fighter. One might surmise that Gon was a genius in fighting, just as Killua was a genius at killing. And through their years together they had grown in skill and power at an alarming rate, but thus was the fate of such prodigies.

From beneath him, Gon snickered, and even in the dark Killua could detect a rare mischievous light in those brown eyes.

Knowing that he was being mocked, Killua twisted the other youth onto his stomach, grasping a tanned arm, and pulling up until he heard a pained grunt from his captive. Crouching down, he asked lowly into the Gon's ear, "Had enough?"

"Killua," came the equally soft reply, "I won." A light chuckle.

He blinked, and loosened his painful grip, unconsciously running his fingers over the sore muscles of the limb he had abused, before tangling his hand into Gon's black hair and shoving his friend's face into a pillow. He watched in amusement as his friend tried to jerk back, flaying his arms and legs about in a vain attempt to get some air. Killua waited, keeping a firm hold down and counted to twenty before an extremely frustrated screech came from the smothered face.

Draping himself over the writhing body, he pressed his longer legs down on kicking ones, a hand snagging one beating fist and holding it down against the sheets, his head dipping down to area right below the hairline. Once he was in total control, he slowly let his gripping fingers in the other's hair go limp, and held firm when Gon's head shot up with a loud gasp, cheeks red from exertion, and eyes infuriated.

"Killua!" Gon shouted, sounding deliciously out of breath.

Killua grinned, nuzzling the fine soft hairs on Gon's neck and asked, "Who did you say won?" He was getting excited, and he pressed his hips down onto Gon's rear, making sure that his friend was very aware of it.

The other shifted uncomfortably, and let out a self-suffering sigh.

"What? Don't I get a prize?" asked Killua, letting go of Gon's arm and running his hands appreciating along the his friend's sides. When his hands went seeking beneath the blue undershirt to touch the strong flesh there, he felt the Gon shiver and take a sharp breath. In response, he blew at the other's neck. "It your not going to give me my prize…perhaps I should just take it, hmm?" he said suggestively, grinding his lower body down.

At this Gon twisted abruptly, catching Killua unprepared, managing to grab his face and bring it crashing down into a very thorough kiss. Killua closed his eyes, molding his lips with the other's, his tongue seeking entrance that was accepted, drowning in the warm, wet, and familiar feeling that was totally Gon, and only Gon. With one arm balancing him over his friend, he allowed the other to go downward to stroke at one muscular thigh, trying to coax it open so that more sensual playing other than kissing could be initiated.

Instead, Gon pulled away, and Killua nearly hissed in frustration, unwilling to stop when things were just starting to heat up.

"Killua…" said Gon, turning his head to the side to avoid any more kisses.

"Whaaat?" He couldn't help the whine that escaped from him. Gon was so cruel sometimes!

"I got you off the computer."

Killua froze, staring down at the triumphant look on his friend's face.

"I won!" chirped Gon, pushing the now paralyzed Killua off and to the side. "And I say its time to sleep!"

Killua lay still as Gon fluffed up his pillow then pulled the sheets over the two of them, snuggling into the mattress. He blinked at the happy smile pulling at his friend's lips, and could not help but smile affectionately. Rolling onto his stomach, he cradled his head on his arms, not wanting to get out of bed to retrieve his fallen pillow that was still laying on the floor next to the desk. Glancing back at Gon, he brought one arm out to drape over the other's slim waist.

"We're not kids anymore, Gon," he whispered, shifting his head on one curled arm and closing his eyes.

Gon said nothing in return, simply pressing himself closer.

* * *

A**/N: Whooeee…ok…how was that? Bad, horrible, so-so? Drop me a line, and if y'all have ideas that you might want to see in this fic, say something…babble, rant, whatever. My plot outline for this fic is sorely lacking, and perhaps something someone will say will spark some ideas in my rusty brain.**


	2. I : Watching and Following

**_Title: Perfect Blue_**

**_Author: Tristripe (Tri)_**

**_Pairing: Killua/Gon, Leorio+Kurapica_**

**_Rating: M_**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own the characters; if you try to sue me I will never write again._**

**_Chapter Warning: T/M for Plot () and sexual situations._**

**_A/N: Yay! Chapter 1 is finally here v. Now I've been doing a lot of brainstorming and such, and I'm certain my friends are ready to bash my brains in for my lack of confidence and wishy washy-ness when coming to plot and characterization and format. You guys should thank my dears Memeal and Msmanga for beta reading this chapter (it was HARD…plus I had contradicted myself in my writing O.o), and AsprinForYourHeachache for moral support and encouragement to write my dear little fingers off! And yes, a plot will form, and baby hints will be in this chapter (yes I don't beat around the bush now do I?)._**

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**PERFECT BLUE**

**I : Watching and Following**

Killua Zaoldyeck learned early on that his partner and friend, Gon Freaks,was a creature of habit. When in a comfortable setting, swathed in warm sheets and smothered in soft pillows, he would be slow to awaken. He would then rise up on the bed with his feet on the floor, to yawn and blink blearily at his surroundings. He always did this, and one might assume that it was his natural animal instinct to survey the area he was in before making a move, even if he were half asleep in a simple hotel room. Once the surroundings had been checked out (how he could check out anything with his eyes closed was a mystery) he would slowly come to his feet, swaying slightly, then draghimself to the bathroom to prepare for the new day.

He always relieved himself first, Killua noted, and never _ever_ forgot to flush the toilet. Unless he had been too tired for his evening shower the night before, Gon would then go to the sink for his morning washing.He started with his hands first, lathering them with soap and rinsing them in warm water; cupping his hands, he scrubbed his face thoroughly, washing away any sleep that lingered. It was thenhe brushed his teeth, using a little more than a pea size of toothpaste on his brush before vigorous cleansing commenced. Gon always started with his upper right molars, brushing downwards and moving along. When he spat the foamy spit, it was always straight down into the drain, as if conscious of the disgusting mess some people left when aimlessly spitting into the sink. Usually he ended with lightly running the toothbrush over his tongue, but lately he had been complaining about his wisdom teeth. After brushing the bristles through some warm water, he would then gently massage the tender gums.

Killua, at the mere hint of discomfort from his wisdom teeth, had gone immediately to the nearest optometrist and had all four removed. He had urged Gon to do the same, but Gon was stubborn in such things that were natural, claiming that wisdom teeth grew for a reason, and unless they were coming out crooked he would bear with the pain.

Stubborn, stubborn Gon did not know what was good for him.

After leaving the bathroom, Gon would do the most amazing thing: He brushed his hair. Any stranger walking by would guess that Gon heavily lathered his hair in gel and spray, but Killua knew that was not the case. His hair was stiffer than a normal person's**---**all Gon ever did was brush it upward and miraculously it would stay in place, standing straight up in long dark spikes. His hair seemed to suit him in a way, for Gon was anything but shy, and with his hair completely off his face, one could easily see the honesty that constantly shone from his handsome features. Though his brown eyes were still a bit too large for his age, making him look fourteen than his actual sixteen years, they had lost a lot of their innocent naiveté that had been so endearing when he was younger. Replacing it was this strong sense of maturity, the eyes of a young man who was no longer a child but at the brink of adulthood. It was unsurprising, this change, for after over four years of being a Pro Hunter there was little chance NOT to grow.

'With great strength comes great responsibility'…or something like that.

However, strength and power had not changed one very important thing:

Gon was still Gon, as pure as the clearest blue river on Whale Island.

Once his hair had been tended to, next would be the specific art of changing out of whatever clothes he had slept in, to his daytime clothes. When he was twelve, Gon had seen little reason to change out of his favorite green shorts and undershirt when going to bed; after all, there was nothing to soil them as he slept. However, he had learned that when fooling around with Killua during the night, there was a hundred percent chance that his pants would suffer some type of damage or stain Therefore,he opted to sleep in his boxers rather than have to deal with cleaning the mess every morning. No longer did he wear those green shorts from his childhood, but now covered his legs with a pair of dark green pants. He tucked those into shin high boots that he tied securely to allow him as much mobility as he needed through the day. He always started with his right leg; slipping the strong, tanned limb into the pants, before zipping up and closing the two top buttons. The right foot was the first to be shoved into the boots, and it was his right arm that went through the tight white turtle-necked tank top first. One might assume that Gon was too dependent on his right side, but that was not the case; though he favored it, his left got enough care to be able to take over if the right was ever incapacitated.

Limbs were so easily severed in the line of being a Hunter.

Killua watched Gon prepare himself every morning, though unlike Gon, he never had a routine that he followed by…at least not consciously. Sometimes he studied his partner from the bed, taking note of every yawn, every stretch, every movement that the other young man made. Other times, he was brushing and changing along with Gon---though at times he would start with his shirt, and at others he would struggle with his cut off blue cargos. Once he had put his shoes on first then attempted to put his cargo pants on, only to fall flat on his face while Gon chided him for his rashness.

Most of the times, however, Killua neither watched nor followed his friend. Instead, he filled his pastime with pouncing Gon as he tried to seduce the other into some morning play that included all out face sucking and a very skilled hand job.

Unfortunately, with Gon being a creature of habit, it was a rarity that he could be coerced into breaking his routine for some fun. Despite morning needs being spurned, Killua never gave up, making his few morning conquests so much more memorable and sweet.

This particular morning, however, was not one of them.

"It will only take ten minutes! I promise!"

"No. Nope. No way. Go brush your teeth, your morning breath can kill."

"But I can't wait! I'm going to burst!"

"Then go burst in the bathroom. And be quick, I don't want to be late for the auction."

"Go-UH-on…"

"Kil-LU-a, just wait till tonight."

A horrified gasp, "You're not a man!"

When door slammed shut, a framed picture flew off its nail on the wall and landed flat on the ground.

"Crap."

Stomping to the bathroom and brushing his teeth savagely, Killua thought of his lover's lack of sensitivity. The only 'bursting' Killua was ever going to do would be with Gon. The mere thought of going at it alone made him feel hollow and bitter. If Gon was so gung-ho about nature, didn't it go against nature to repress hormonal desires? Especially if said desires could be easily satiated by a very, very willing partner? Yanking his clothes on, and running his hands through his tangled hair, Killua made his way out, his mood thoroughly dampened.

He remained taller than Gon, his movements more fluid and calculated than Gon's, his fingers longer and stronger. His wide eyes had become narrower with age, yet still filled with youthful mischief that had barely dwindled. He had allowed his white hair to grow out just a bit, the longest length in the back just grazing his shoulders. Killua knew he was drop dead gorgeous, and happily aware of the effect he had on the female population he came across.

He snorted at the makeshift lock as he twisted it closed, knowing that it would do little to thwart any would-be burglar. There wasn't as if there was anything worth stealing since, being veteran travelers, Killua and Gon always carried all their essentials in their bags with them from traveling papers, spare clothes, and the vital Hunter's License that could buy them or get them anything or anywhere. And even if something important were stolen, it would be quite easy to apprehend the thief, soeasy that it would be boring.

Gon would want to catch the thief immediately…there were too many things that needed to get done.

Killua would want to give the thief a day or two head start…just to make things more interesting. Nothing was better than catching a thief that thought he was safe.

They would bicker; Gon would go off on his own to catch the criminal, hand him over to the proper authorities, and all the while Killua would pout. Then in the evening he would be given the cold shoulder to any of his advances, and what a lonely night it would be. So Killua made sure to lock the door and windows, and added a few non-lethal booby traps to scare away anyone stupid enough to try to break in. His lover was already peeved at him; the last thing needed was an argument that would leave Killua jilted tonight.

It took moments for Killua to make his way downstairs and through the lobby, where he nodded his head at one of the more pretty receptionists (who blushed shyly and giggled behind a petite and manicured hand). He found Gon sitting at a small round table right outside the main entrance, sipping a creamy mango drink and chatting with two young women who leaned over at both his sides, their voices raised high in obvious flirtation. Killua took a few seconds to watch the women, noticing the way one casually flicked a lock of straightened brown hair over her shoulder, at the same time tugging at her collar and exposing most of her neck and a bit of her cleavage. The other was more blatant, having already latched herself to Gon's arm, and commenting on the firmness of the muscle, and the beautiful color of his natural tan, all the while stroking and caressing the admirable limb. Gon was oblivious of course, smiling happily at the inane conversation, turning from one pretty face to the other, totally unaffected, totally relaxed, answering the questions amiably and…

…did he just flex his arm for them!

With a shake of his head, the young man strolled over to his friend, waving casually as he called, "Yo! All locked up."

Gon turned to him immediately, his eyes lit up. "Killua," he greeted, "I was just talking to these ladies and they don't believe that I'm a Hunter!" He laughed, and rubbed the back of his head self-consciously.

"That's cause you act like a kid," replied Killua teasingly. Instead of sitting at the table, he went over behind Gon's seat, leaned forward, and draped both his arms over his shoulders. The smaller boy looked up at him in surprise, but relaxed at the impish grin curling Killua's lips.

"Killua," said the brown haired woman, just a bit of her bra showing from the opening of her blouse. "What an interesting name! You must have interesting parents."

Killua snorted, "You have no idea, lady."

Gon's laugh became nervous.

"Gooooon," crooned the other, but looking up appraisingly at Killua as she spoke, "Is he a friend of yours?"

"Yup!" chirped the boy, "We're partners!"

Taking advantage, Killua leaned further down nuzzled Gon's ear. Giving the women a sly look he added, "And by that he means partners in _everything_."

The reaction was immediate, both ladies jerking up and away, their expressions a mix of horror and embarrassment. Within seconds they were gone, and feeling quite accomplished for a job well done, Killua sat down beside Gon.

Gon gulped his mango drink loudly, licked his lips, then offered the glass to Killua, who with his chin propped on an elbow, took it and drank.

"What's that look on your face?" Gon asked slowly, a slight frown marring his clear forehead. For some reason, Gon was not prone to acne or zits; his complexion as clear as it was when he was twelve. Killua had no acne, but the occasional zit did surface. When one did,he would pop the disgusting parasite while snarling at the laughing Gon.

"What look?" asked Killua innocently, his voice light and disinterested.

Gon scowled. "You look angry."

"Angry?" Killua blinked, as if the question shocked him. "No, no. Its just---I was thinking about how you never minded when I talk to other girls…"

"Why would I? Girls are nice." Such a statement, coming from anyone other than Gon, could have meant many underlining things; however, the speaker being Gon, it meant just as he said it: Girls were _nice_. Why not speak to them if they were nice?

Killua smirked. "There's this receptionist and you should have seen her breasts! They were _huge_! I bet she's _real_ nice!" He made curved motions over his chest.

This brought on a scowl on Gon's face, and he said severely, "You shouldn't look at girl's chests. Don't you remember what Aunt Mito did when you said that hers were shrinking?" The boy then shuddered"I'd never seen her blow up like that!"

"Aw, that's cause she's getting old and has wrinkles on her face!" Killua rolled his eyes at the memory. "And besides, I don't like girls who are loud and violent. I like 'em pretty and with boobs. Like that receptionist." He cast Gon a side-glance, exasperated at the genuinely confused look on his friend's face. Seeing that he was not going to get anywhere with this type of teasing, he reached over, grabbed Gon by the back of his head, and pulled him close till their foreheads met gently. Smiling, he whispered, "Forget it. Can you do me a favor?"

"You can't finish my drink, Killua," said Gon severely, and yelped when his cheek received a harsh pinch.

"Idiot, pay attention!" Killua chided. "I won't look at girls' boobs as long as you don't let girls touch you like that lady was doing right now, okay?"

Understanding finally lit up Gon's eyes, and after a brief hesitation he said quietly, "I don't think she meant anything by it."

With a rude sound, Killua pulled back. "This coming from the guy whose only contact with women are the ones who mother him and the ones who try to kill him! Both of them were hitting on you, Gon. I bet if I didn't break you all apart they would have invited you up to their rooms or something!"

For a second, Gon looked defensive, but quickly switched to a reflective sulk. Gon was known for listening and taking into account all advise that was given to him, however due to his stubborn nature whether he actually _followed through_ with the advise was another matter. Knowing this, Killua decided that the next time his friend was approached by extremely flirtatious women, he would let things go on. The sudden image of Gon jumping out a third story hotel room in his boxers while trying to escape a woman in extreme heat made him choke on the mango drink.

As he coughed and wheezed the creamy cold liquid from his lungs, Gon retrieved the glass and downed its contents. Leaving the glass on the table he stood and started to walk away, saying over his shoulder, "I really don't want to know."

Killua was forced to scramble after him.

* * *

They had only been following rumors, really, both boys sure that they would come to a dead end, their whole purpose for coming to this particular city was for naught. It had started over three weeks ago, when a merchant who had offered to give them a ride to the local port had mentioned that he had heard from some sources that a pair of the items they were looking for would be auctioned off in a city not too far off. Deviating from their original route, they made their way Lounden City, a location filled with ancient artifacts, markets, tourists, and auctions. They found nothing in the mainstream auctions that were being held in hotel ballrooms and park squares, but a shady man hidden in a coat and wearing dark shades hinted to them that a secret auction would be held in a basement under an abandoned storage building. Even after the…persuasive…conversation Killua had with him, the man remained ignorant of the exact contents that would be placed up for auction. A shame really, the young ex-assassin had enjoyed the pig like squeals the man had made once he had brandished his knife-like nails. The man happily gave them two entrance tickets for free when he was let go, and when Gon offered to buy him some pants (he had soiled them at Killua's demonstration of his banana peeling techniques), he had been adamant that he would live a life of bliss as long as they never crossed paths again.

So they were more than pleased when, halfway through the auction, a large glass canister filled with clear liquid was brought out. Floating sluggishly in it a pair of eerie scarlet eyes.

They had anticipated competition, but were surprised when one particular plump businessman kept on raising the price, almost as determined as they to own the contained organs. They came out victorious but spent nearly all the money they had saved up in the last four years (it was mostly Gon's money, since Killua had difficulty saying no to expensive delicacies and chocolate balls). The white haired young man wanted to celebrate, but Gon had a pinched look on his face and stiffly told him that he wanted to return to the hotel as soon as possible.

Night when they emerged from the storage building; it was nearly impossible to see the stars in Lounden, the bright lights of the city casting the dark in an orange glow, a few spotlights streaking across the sky to commercialize the many nightly attractions. They had just reached the sidewalk when a loud call came from behind, and upon turning, Killua could not help but grimace at the sight of the fat businessman and his bodyguard jogging up to them.

He also noticed Gon's arms tightening slightly around the brown package in his arms.

The man was panting and sweating profusely by the time he reached them. He was short and wide, his face round with fat, with a small tuft of black hair on his chin, and a pair of round sunglasses perched on his round and crooked nose. His guard, on the other hand, was a tall man with extremely large shoulders and narrow eyes that looked extremely bored. He wore a jacket, and Killua could see the slight bump under it where he kept his gun strapped close. It was his stoicism that put the young man at guard; it was harder to read an opponent if you could not read him, and this man was a large statue of coolness.

Killua smirked at the prospect of fighting him one day…it would be interesting.

"You two young men were quite amazing," the businessman was saying, his plump hands rubbing together in a nervous gesture. "Even more amazing that you were able to outbid me, and actually PAY right there."

"We have some experience with this sort of thing," said Gon, his voice low yet cordial.

The fat man nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes. That is obvious," his voice oozed with sweetness. "But you see, I collect of the Scarlet Eyes, they are one of the world's most rare and wondrous artifacts. And in particular, I am a collector of anything that has to do with the extinct Kuruta, their eyes is an example. But you know, the Kuruta themselves were a quite beautiful race, and their clothing, pottery, tools are extremely unique, unlike any other culture. Even their food was exotic and mouth watering, like none anyone has tasted, and only the highest of restaurants serve Kuruta dishes at unbelievable prices. I believe I am quite smitten with the Kuruta, and it would be a shame if I am unable to acquire their eyes."

"Yes," agreed Gon, "It would be a shame."

There was a faint tone in those words that caught Killua's attention, and he looked at his partner warily.

A grotesque smile curled over the layers of flab on the businessman's face. "Yes, indeed it would be." He reached into his business jacket and pulled out a checkbook and pen, opening it and saying, "Now, I cannot pay all at once, but in large increments I can make this exchange extremely satisfying to the both of us. Name a total price, and I will pay half now, and half later. I don't care how much…"

Killua opened his mouth to tell the man where he could shove that checkbook, but Gon beat him to the punch, except his words were much more respectful and diplomatic: "I'm sorry, but we aren't interesting in selling."

A dangerous gleam sparked in the businessman's eyes, "Oh?"

"We have our own reasons to getting the Kuruta eyes—"

"You don't need to explain yourself to him, Gon," said Killua, placing a hand on his friend's stiff shoulder. "Lets go. We're just wasting out time here."

Gon nodded, and the two were about to turn when the fat man lunged, dropping his checkbook and pen and reaching for Gon's arm. The dark haired boy whirled and caught the hand before it could touch him, but in a split second, the stoic bodyguard moved into action. Thegun was out and came to point right at the side of Gon's head. Killua, ever aware of the danger the guard had posed, swung his arm up to the tall man's neck, sharp nails gleaming in the moonlight.

The four stood still for a moment, before the businessman, who had broken out into a nervous sweat snapped, "Diego, put that thing away!"

Immediately, the tall man stepped back, away from the danger of Killua's nails, and replaced the gun into its holster. At this withdrawal, Killua retracted his nails, and Gon let go of the businessman's arm.

The pudgy man massaged the arm, probably bruised. Then, taking a deep calming breath, he pulled out a kerchief and wiped the beading sweat from his forehead. As he folded the piece of cloth, he started talking. "They're not extinct. I saw one, some years back. I hadn't noticed …no one noticed, because he was hiding his eyes behind black contact lenses. But I saw them, the true color of his eyes, glowing red in the darkness and the rain. Such a live color on that face cannot compare to these pathetic organs. Those fools who ordered the massacre had no clue what they destroyed. " He laughed, a high-pitched ugly sound. "He's searching for them…the eyes of his people. And if I continue to collect them, he will come. He will defiantly come…"

Killua felt the seeds of alarm begin to set in his stomach at the man's words. The words sounded like those of an obsessed collector, but there was something wrong; something that he could not understand. And _that _was even more disturbing. Instinctively, he felt his hand stiffen in preparation to strike at the man's jugular to get rid of the threat, whatever it was.

"I already told you," Gon's voice rang out clear, jarring Killua's attention back to his partner. "We aren't selling."

The businessman's face twitched in rage, but he controlled himself and nodded stiffly. "Very well. It saddens me that you cannot see the art that I am trying to collect….however..." Once again he reached into his jacket, this time pulling out a small business card.

Killua reluctantly took it. "Zenji, eh? Are we supposed to be impressed or something?"

He gave the man a bored look.

The businessman straightened his jacket and gestured for his guard to follow him as he started to turn away. "Just my number and other contact information…in case you ever change your mind."

Gon did not wait to watch the two men go. Turningon his heels, he hastilyheaded towards the hotel in heavy silence.

To any stranger or acquaintance, it would seem as if Gon was calm, a normal young man simply walking down the street at night with his friend in companionable peace. However, to Killua, there was nothing pleasant about the current quiet between them, or the deceptively neutral look on his partner's face. Gon was furious, and was swallowing it all up and taking it in silence, to analyze his emotions, rationalize his feelings, and cool himself down in the end. This was not to say Gon never _lost_ his temper;quite the contrary, Killua was constantly yelled at heatedly for the most mundane of things…like spending all his money on chocolate instead of saving it for the important things. But _rarely_ lost his temper when something hurt him; whensomething important happened that could change him or those around him. He kept his cool, remained in control.

But in doing so, so he closed himself up from everything and everyone around him.

So Killua followed, a couple of steps behind.

* * *

Gon had been writing a letter with fluid strokes of a dark ink pen when Killua went into the bathroom for a shower. When he came out, fifteen minutes later, damp and clean; Gon, the letter he was writing, and the brown package were gone. At the sight of Gon's travel bag sitting on the table, Killua sighed and opened the computer to start up his game. He had nearly reached the new record the night before, but had been interrupted and forced to bed. Tonight he was determined to reach his goal, before he needed to be pulled away.

He was at it for over two hours before the door opened, and in came Gon, empty-handed. Killua stared at him from over his shoulder, watching stiff limbs pick up folded nightclothes and a towel before dragging feet took Gon to the bathroom. The lock clicked, warding off any disturbances. Killua sighed again and returned to the game, the sounds of the shower behind him and the clicking of the mouse the only sounds that broke the silence in the room.

The ex-assassin was unprepared when less than ten minutes later Gon swung the bathroom door open, dressed in his boxer shorts and undershirt, a damp towel draped over his shoulders, his hair damp and drying in the open air. Usually, Gon took up to twenty minutes in the shower, not exactly cleaning himself or anything like that, but reflecting, thinking, and just enjoying the soothing beat of the warm water on his head and shoulders. Gon had said as much, once complaining how Killua always insisted on showering together and not giving him the space he needed at the end of the day. The dark haired boy went straight to the bed, flopping face first. After a moment he shifted to his side, arms curling under his pillow and making no effort to climb into the sheets.

The figure on the bed exhaled deeply, but said nothing.

Killua watched the rise and fall of Gon's side for a few moments, hesitant, then reached down and turned off the computer. Standing up, he picked up the damp towel and draped it on the headboard with a snort, then shut off the lights. When he crawled slowly into the bed, Gon turned his head to look at him impassively, his face cast in shadows. Killua slid in so that he was slightly spooned to the back of his friend, and with one arm propping him up, he allowed the other run down Gon's dark shoulder to his hip, then back up; simply stroking.

"It's disgusting."

With a panicked sound, Killua jerked his hand away from the smaller young man, but Gon quickly caught it and brought it over to him, allowing the arm to drape over his side. Killua watched as Gon seemed to study his hand, the life lines that stretched across his palm, the veins on the back of his hand, and the deceptively normal nails.

"It's disgusting," he repeated quietly, stopping with his inspection and simply holding Killua's hand, "to collect body parts of a murdered people for simple pleasure. It's not beautiful…I don't understand how someone could say those eyes are beautiful. All I see is lost rage."

"That man," spoke Killua. "He was talking about Kurapica."

Gon simply nodded, and Killua could feel his breath on his fingers.

"There was something really wrong with the way he was talking about him. I didn't like it."

"Yeah…" Gon twisted around slightly, so that he was on his back. "I sent a letter to Leorio, hopefully he'll know where Kurapica has gone and can warn him."

"Hm…and the package? You were out for a long time."

Killua could see the smirk on Gon's lips even in the dark. "I sent eighteen different packages from eighteen different post drops…only one of them is going to go to Aunt Mito, and she's going to hide the eyes till we can get them to Kurapica." Suddenly Gon reached up and pinched Killua's nose, earning him a loud squawk. "I also sent that letter you've been working on for two months with one of mine."

"What!" yelped Killua, pulling back and rubbing his nose. "But it wasn't done yet! And besides, I told you I was going to send her an email!"

"You know Aunt Mito doesn't check her mail online. She told you she wanted hand written letters from the both of us."

Killua sulked at this, muttering darkly, "I hate pushy women with wrinkles. That woman needs to get with the program and start using that computer. I even made her an email account last time we were there!" At the sound of his partner's light laugh, Killua grinned slightly and leaned down, nuzzling his neck and taking in the smell of Gon's freshly washed skin.

Gon's hands came to cup his face, ran up through his hair, and then stopped at the back of his neck, massaging the muscles slightly. "I'm sorry…" he whispered, "about before. I got mad at that man, and instead of dealing with it I was being inconsiderate. I'm sorry."

Killua lifted his head and looked down into the sincere apology on Gon's face before coming down again, this time molding his lips over Gon's, kissing his friend and partner with everything that he had. His tongue was taken in immediately and allowed to explore through familiar territory. He shivered when he felt hands tugging at the waist of his shorts.

They both separated at the same time, breathing heavily, and then hastily pulled at the sheets beneath them, climbing in. Gon lay on his back, his knees slightly bent as Killua climbed on top of him, dragging the sheets up with him as he settled between his friend's legs and tilted his hips at the feel of the heated tightness in the other's boxers. Gon's breath hitched at the slight contact, and Killua sent his mouth crashing down, hands pulling at each other's clothes in frenzy as the two stripped each other in near frantic movements.

There was very little foreplay this night…just animalistic grinding, harsh breathing, and pleasured gasps. Each one knew where to touch and bring out the most satisfaction for the other. Gon was sensitive below the knees, while Killua would purr like a kitten if Gon sucked at his ear. So in minutes, a pillow was placed under the lower half of Gon's back, his thighs clenching on Killua's sides as he lubricated himself and Gon with deft fingers.

And when Killua slowly pushed in, Gon turned his head and shut his eyes. Though no longer painful, he never particularly liked the first penetration. But with Killua's touch, he would experience the most astounding highs. Killua made sure of it every single time the slept together. He would rather drop the toilet seat on his penis than to leave Gon unsatisfied even once.

They had been doing this for nearly a year now, Gon having no experience in intimacy whatsoever, and having not thought about it except on certain occasions when there was no escaping it. Killua, on the other hand, had lost his virginity at fourteen at the hands of an older married duchess who had found Killua's charms quite endearing during a hosted ball for her husband. It was on that first experience that Killua noticed that though pleasurable, he had not enjoyed certain little things that continued to distract him with every woman he ended up bedding after that. Their thighs were too soft, skin too pale or smooth, hair too long or light or soft…and it just kept on getting worse till he thought he had become impotent.

And then he started to notice Gon…and could only watch him, think of him, and dream of him with a thrill that he had not experienced with any of the women.

And when he finally told him, Gon did not push him away, or hesitate. Just simply gave him everything.

"Amazing…" Killua gasped out the words without realizing it, lying on top of Gon, legs tangled, and still feeling the electric buzz after climaxing.

"What is?" asked Gon quietly, gently stroking Killua's head with his hand, the other lying limply next to his head.

Staring down at the other, Killua shook his head, not knowing what to say, or how to express it. He never had, from the time he had met Gon…this feeling of bliss, happiness, such a fulfillment. He wanted it, needed it, would be driven to any measures to keep it.

Because, Gon was everything…without him there would be nothing…

"Nothing…I…it's nothing…"

A snort, "Idiot."

**TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

**_  
A/N: Alright, here it is, the first chapter! Yay! Any questions or comments that you want to be answered, please feel free to email me at Please leave your constructive criticism, rants, and (my favorite) babbles if you found this fic interesting! I love hearing input from readers. Tell me how the writing style was…if the characters were in character (remember, they ARE older now) and believable. And most importantly, tell me why._**

**_Oh! And please babble! I get ideas from reviewer's babbles! Who knows, something you said might show up in a later chapter!_**

**_Till next time!_**

**_Tri_**


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